


Good Girl

by storybycorey



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 13:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storybycorey/pseuds/storybycorey
Summary: Mildly Dom Mulder & Mildly Sub Scully play with a vibrator.





	Good Girl

He finds her vibrator about two weeks in, right about the point they’ve gotten good at this sex thing, right about the point he’s discovered she’ll mewl if he nips at her nipples, she’s learned he’ll squeak if she fingers his ass. Oh yeah, they’ve gotten good at it, absurdly so. So good it’s all she thinks about at times, sitting in the office like a good little agent, pencil to her lips as though she’s considering important, relevant things like conspiracies or aliens or various un-nameable monsters or that way he slipped his cock in just an inch last night, just enough that she squirmed and gasped and begged, _begged_ him to go deeper… _oh, oh yeah._

She sweats a lot these days, more than is ladylike or appropriate in an office setting.

But back to the vibrator. He sees it in the bedside drawer she fails to close. It’s not as though it’s hidden or something to be ashamed of. It just hasn’t been discussed yet. She’s in a navy bra and panties tonight, kneeling behind him as he sits on the edge of the bed, licking that tendon that runs from his shoulder on up his neck. If she weren’t so distracted, she’d maybe try to remember the tendon’s name. She is though. So distracted. His skin has the unique ability of turning her brain to mush sometimes. Or all the time.

“I always wondered,” he says, bringing the silver piece of plastic to his nose to slide beneath his nostrils. It makes her wet the way he does that.

“I have needs, Mulder,” she murmurs against the spot beneath his ear. She’s distracted, still thinking about last night, wondering whether he’ll do that again, wondering whether she can take it, wondering how in two weeks, she’s turned into such a desperate, horny mess.

“Needs, huh?” he asks, then turns and pushes her forcefully down to the bed.

She lets out a yelp that once would’ve been embarrassing, but isn’t now, because she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed when he’s looming over her like that. She only has time to start panting, to look into his eyes and try to read them the way she sometimes can, to wonder what he has in store for tonight. He always has something in store, she’s learned. He’s clever like that. There’ve been a few nights when she’s had the ideas, and oh, those were fun, too, but god, Mulder has some damn good ideas.

His lips are wet and she wants to bite them. She cranes up her neck to reach, but he pulls away. Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it? There are probably a million things a psychologist could say about her liking it when he takes charge _the handing over of your tightly held control, looking for approval ,blah blah blah,_ but all she cares is that it makes her clit throb and her nipples hard, and _please Mulder please, tell me what to do._

He grins as the vibrator begins to buzz, and her heart gets twitchy in her chest. He really is big, above her like that, big and imposing and so fucking sexy. She still wants to bite his damn wet lips. 

“I’m going to play with you for a bit,” he tells her, and there goes that inappropriate sweating again. Although they’re not in the office now, thank god. She sucks in a breath.

The vibrator tickles as it drags down her belly, all fluttery and soft. He’s hovering over her, and she wants so badly to pull him down, to stop the tickling with the thunk of his hard, heavy body. But then he reaches the satin of her panties, and all she wants is that buzzing bit of plastic on her clit. 

“Is this what you do?” he whispers, tracing the triangle of satin. “Tease yourself with this?” 

She grunts cutely, lifting her hips in encouragement. 

“Not good enough. Tell me, Scully.” He sounds like her father with that strict, no-nonsense voice. Severe and ready to give her a spanking if she disobeys. She’s pretty sure that psychologist would have _plenty_ to say about the fact that she likes it. A lot. She spreads her legs, and he runs the toy along the creases of her inner thighs. She feels herself getting wetter. 

She reaches with her hand to guide him into place _on my clit on my clit god please on my clit,_ but he pulls away at the last minute, giving her an admonishing look. She bites her lip and moans.

“Tell me,” he states sternly. She should slap him, really she should, but god, she can’t slap him, because what she really wants is to fuck him, or to have him fuck her. Or at the very least, for him to put that damn vibrator on her clit like she needs.

“I use it on my clit,” she whispers, hoping the answer’s good enough for him. Her hips are wriggling, she can’t keep them still. He hasn’t even touched her yet.

“Hmmm, on your clit. You like your clit rubbed, don’t you, Scully?” he sneers. He’s learned that about her these past two weeks, he’s learned it well, he’s learned it very well, much to her delight. With his fingers, with his cock, with his tongue. _Oh dear god, yes, yes I like it._

“Please,” she begs, lifting her hips again. She used to pretend like this sometimes, pretend he was above her teasing, pretend the vibrator was his cock and she couldn’t quite reach it. That was nothing like this though, not with _him_ and his smell and his weight and his stern, strict voice just inches away.

“Like this?” he whispers, and swipes the toy up her satin-covered slit, pausing just briefly at the top, just long enough for her to buck and groan in relief. But then he’s gone, and she honestly feels like crying.

“What else do you do, Scully?” He brings it back to draw in circles over her mons, and she chases him, hoping to align the tip with the throb of her clit just once. “What do you do with your other hand?” He’s hard against her thigh, and she grinds her leg against him, just a little, just so he tastes his own medicine. But oh, she shouldn’t have done that, because then he’s climbing away, and _no oh no please!_

“Don’t go,” she whines, reaching for him. She knows he’d never go, knows he wants this just as desperately as she, but sometimes the tease is almost as much fun as the prize. And my my my, Mulder is most definitely a nice prize. 

He kneels beside her this time and gives her a look. “Be good,” he cautions.

“I’ll be good,” she breathes, nodding. She bites her lip as she looks up into his eyes. 

Back comes his hand with the vibrator, slipping and sliding along her panties everywhere but where she’d most like him to be. It feels like punishment, and there’s something about that she likes. Rebelling against Mulder has always brought her a small thrill, especially when she knows she’ll eventually be forgiven. She holds her breath when he gets close, resisting the urge to lift her hips, but when he skates away again, she can’t help but groan.

“I’ll ask again,” he says. “What else do you do?”

This time she answers. “My breasts…,” she murmurs. She likes the way his tongue peeks out when she says it. She wants him to do it again. “I…I play with my nipples...” And he does. He does do it again, running that thick tongue along his bottom lip and making it even wetter.

“Do it now,” he commands, and her hips jump. They’re already hard, her nipples, they’ve been waiting for him and his long, slender fingers. 

“I like it better when you do it…,” she pouts, but at his stern look, she quickly draws her hands up to her chest. She squeezes, lifting her breasts, massaging them, making a show of it to please him. It feels good, even if it’s her own hands and not his, and she pinches her nipples through the satin, gasping at the sensation.

“Gooood,” he exhales, and slides the toy finally back over her aching clit as a reward. She groans, arching her pelvis to meet him more firmly, tugging at her nipples through the bra. So good. 

But then the vibe is gone again, back to making light passes over the navy of her panties. “No,” she gasps, “please…” 

“Take off your bra,” he says, “I want to see you.” She scrambles to unhook the clasp. Only Mulder, she’s only ever felt this way with Mulder, wanting to please him, wanting to show him what a good girl she can be. And she _can_ be a good girl. A very good girl when she wants to be. So good he’ll give her a gold star to wear on her dress when she’s done. Or maybe on her skin, maybe even down there on her clit so he can peel it off with his teeth if she’s lucky. _Hooboy._

He pulls down her panties then, and she’s so wet, she can smell herself. He does that to her, works her up more quickly and desperately than she’s ever known. 

“Mmmm,” he hums, “Are you wet for me, Scully?” He cups her in his hand and slides his fingers through her folds.

“Yesss,” she hisses, shoving herself into his palm, begging him for more. She rolls her nipples between her forefingers and thumbs, and the zing of it makes her neck arch in pleasure.

She’s hungry, starving, and her pussy gobbles up his finger when he finally slips it in, clenching and pulling him in. Sometimes when they’re doing this, she imagines sucking him all the way in, fingers, then hand, then arm, until she’s consumed the whole brilliant mess of him. That hypothetical psychologist would have a fucking field day with her. 

He adds another finger, just the way she likes, and starts stroking. It’s an intricate dance, a tango between his fingers and her flesh, twirling and lifting and sliding. You’d think they’d taken years of dance lessons with how skilled they’ve gotten at this. She bends up her knees and grinds her heels into the mattress, moaning her heartfelt encouragement.

He’s good, so good she forgets what he told her to do, allowing her hands to fall away from her breasts as she concentrates. 

Suddenly his fingers go still. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks in a disapproving tone. 

“No, god no!” she gasps, bringing her hands quickly back to rest on her breasts. She waits, breaths heaving, for him to continue.

“Prove it, Scully.” His tone makes her inner walls twitch, and he smiles. She wants to hate him for bossing her around this way, but she can’t. She can’t because it turns her the hell on. He watches until she starts to play again, until she pinches and flicks at her nipples, until she’s murmuring his name and humming deep in her throat and wriggling her ass into the sheets because it feels so damn good.

“Christ,” he whispers, and she feels a small measure of satisfaction when he takes a quick swipe at the bulge in his shorts. And then his fingers are back to swirling and curling, and she’s back to sweating in the most unladylike of fashions. 

She almost forgets the vibrator, but then the buzz-buzz-buzzing starts up again. She bites her lip in anticipation. He hovers the toy above her clit like a hummingbird, just barely brushing against the slickened hairs. She tugs desperately at her nipples. It’s a strange sort of torture, that feeling of almost-ecstasy-but-not-quite-there, and she whines in frustration.

“Mulder,” she gasps, “please.” 

“You want it, don’t you, Scully?” he rumbles. “You want it on your clit while I fuck you with my fingers.” She lets out an agonized groan. _Damn him, but yes, god yes I want it._

“Please,” she whimpers, clenching her breasts between her fingers and undulating her hips. He’s grinding his hard cock against her hip now. He flutters the vibrator just briefly closer, then pulls it away again. Torture. “Please, Mulder,” she begs desperately.

He leans down to whisper in her ear, “Okay, Scully. But only because you’ve been so good.” Then he presses the buzzing piece of plastic against her swollen pink flesh, and _sweet mary and joseph_ the intensity of it combined with the artistry of his clever, clever fingers is mindboggling. She bucks her hips and hisses through her teeth. 

He works her even harder with his fingers, putting his entire arm into it, and oh, she thinks she may possibly die from the pleasure. She arches her back as it grows and it grows. Funny how her vibrator was never this effective alone, never so all-consuming and so everything everything everything all at once, the way it is now. 

“Muld…,” she gasps, “Oh my go…” Her head thrashes against the sheets as she lifts her hips, grinding them frantically against his hand. She pinches her nipples so hard they hurt, but the pain is good, so good. Has it really only been two weeks since they began this? Because this feels like a lifetime of understanding, a lifetime of intimacy, a lifetime of knowing just the right pressure and angle and touch to bring her to the very…very…edge.

One slight twist of the vibrator and, with a surge of her body and a whimpered “oh my god”, she’s stepping off the cliff. He freckles her cheeks with kisses as she falls, stilling his fingers while her body clenches rhythmically around them. Briefly, amidst it all, she again thinks of sucking him deep inside.

Eventually, the spasms cease and her legs fall limp. 

“Wow,” she murmurs.

He draws his slickened fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. “Good girl,” he whispers, peering down into her eyes. She supposes instead of working tomorrow, she’ll be thinking of this, of being Mulder’s good girl, of claiming him for her prize. Who needs a gold star when she’s got Fox Mulder in her bed? 

His lips are still wet. 

She still wants to bite them.

She laces her fingers through his hair and proceeds to tug him down. She sucks those damn wet lips into her mouth and nibbles on them until he’s begging for mercy. Then she rolls them both over and whispers, “Your turn.”


End file.
